


Can I Borrow a Kiss?

by WarriorBeeoftheSea



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Kissing, M/M, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-07
Updated: 2019-08-07
Packaged: 2020-08-10 23:55:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20144098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WarriorBeeoftheSea/pseuds/WarriorBeeoftheSea
Summary: Can I borrow a kiss?I promise I'll give it right back.A collection of kissing prompts from Tumblr.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> 20\. Kissing in a stairwell, giving them an artificial height difference.

“Snow, I’ve got to get to class.” I take a step away from the open door. He follows, grinning and refusing to drop my hand.

“I know. Don’t let me stop you.” His eyes dart to our joined hands and then back up to my face. His grin broadens. _Tosser._

“I’m leaving now.” I almost add, _I mean it,_ but figure the only thing missing would be stamping my foot. Instead I step closer to the stairwell. Simon, bloody nightmare that he is, follows.

I sigh and frown at him. I turn away, noting that he still hasn’t dropped my hand, and descend a step.

“Baz, wait.” He tugs gently on my hand. I turn and cock an eyebrow at him. _What now?_

He’s taller than me like this. (Just barely.) He reaches out with his free hand and settles it on my left shoulder, pulling me to face him squarely.

“I forgot to give you a goodbye kiss.”

I roll my eyes at him. “You kissed me not two minutes ago.”

He releases my hand, and brings his left up to join his right on my shoulders. “That one didn’t count.” He slides his fingers up to my face, gently tipping my chin up. “I wasn’t ready to let you go.”

I sigh and rest my hands on his waist. He shuffles further into my space until the toe of his shoe brushes my trousers. I lean forward, letting my center of gravity tip towards him.

I try to channel every ounce of petulance I can into, “_Fine,_” but it comes out as a lovesick sigh. _Great snakes,_ have I no dignity?

He’s waiting for me to bridge the distance between us. He loves doing that, the git. It irritates me but also – maddeningly – I absolutely can’t get enough.

I close the distance and press my lips to his. He sighs into my mouth and deepens the kiss. His tongue plays at my lower lip, and a chill runs down my spine. I slide my hands up his back, skating firmly over the muscles there, and I shiver.

I tip my head and push up against him, encouraging his mouth open more. He hums into my mouth and runs his tongue along mine.

Before I know, this turns into a proper snog, his arms wrapped tightly around my neck. I’m craning my neck towards him, and it feels like I’m wrapped up in him.

Is this how he feels when I kiss him? Probably not; I usually slouch so our faces are level.

“_Ahem._”

We jump apart and Simon grasps my shoulders hard to keep me from tipping backwards down the stairs. I jerk my head towards the sound and find Bunce grinning up at us from the lower landing.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in class, Baz?” I pull my arm from where it’s tangled around Simon and look at my watch. _Shit._ I’m going to be late.

I turn back to Simon on lean up again for a quick peck, and then I’m bounding down the stairs.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 34\. Kisses that start on their fingers and run up their arm, eventually ending on their lips.

We’re lying together in my bed, and it’s really too small for the both of us. Baz is propped up on his left elbow, and he’s looking at me. I’m flat on my back, looking up at him, and for a moment I feel lost in his gaze. I don’t know what it all means.

He reaches across me to grasp my left hand where it rests on my belly. He lifts it and examines my palm. I’ve got moles there – one on the fatty pad of one of my fingers, just above where it joins my palm. And one on the inside of my wrist.

He’s looking at my moles, and I want to squirm away. But I don’t. Because I don’t want to, not _really._

“What are you doing?” I whisper.

He shifts his gaze back to my face but doesn’t say anything. Wordlessly, he brings my hand to his face and gently presses a kiss to the tip of my middle finger.

I can’t help the sigh that slips past my lips. He grins, his mouth still pressed to my finger.

He’s looking at me, considering, waiting. After a moment he opens his lips and slides his mouth around my finger, down to the second knuckle.

_Holy fuck._ He slides his tongue around my finger and I might die. _Of thirst._

I don’t notice how shallow and rough my breathing is until he pulls away and slips my finger out of his mouth. He smiles broadly again and then dips his head to chastely kiss the mole on my finger. My heart beats faster, and I want to melt into him.

He peppers light kisses down my palm, and when he reaches the bottom he nips at the heel of my hand. I gasp, and he grins around the gentle bite, before quickly running his wet tongue across the bit of skin captured in his teeth.

I want him so badly. I sigh again, and it sounds light and ethereal. Is that really me making that sound? He bites again, harder, and I groan. It sounds more like me. Impatient. Needy.

He releases my skin and presses a kiss to the mole on my wrist, cradling my hand gently in his. Then he’s pressing kisses along the inside of my forearm, up to where I’ve rolled up my shirt sleeve.

He pauses when he gets there, and rolls into me so he’s resting some of his weight across my body. Then he presses down into me and quickly kisses the fabric above my elbow, just barely using his tongue so I can feel it. When he moves up a few inches to repeat the kiss again, I can feel the fabric wet with his saliva.

He kisses up my arm like this, across my shoulder, until he’s close enough to my open collar to pull it more open and press his mouth to skin again. And he does.

He presses his tongue firmly against my collarbone and finishes the kiss with cold, pliant lips. He slides his mouth up my neck, and for a moment I marvel at letting a vampire put his mouth there. The thought is fleeting, and quickly replaced with moans, and _wanting_ and _now_ and _yes, please._

He’s thoroughly on top of me now, and I never want him to stop. He does, though. He pulls away from my neck, resting his weight over me on his elbows, bracketing me like I’m his.

_I am his._

His eyes search mine. I reach up for his face and pull him down into a burning kiss. He gives in and sinks his firm, unyielding weight into me.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 4\. An accidental brush of lips followed by a pause and going back for another, on purpose.

It’s been a month. A whole month since Simon stopped the Humdrum and lost his magic.

A whole month since he’s kissed me. Let _me_ kiss _him_.

There’s really no guide for moving forward in a new relationship in the wake of trauma.

Sometimes I just want to climb into his bed and wrap his arms around me and kiss until it’s hard to breathe, hard to feel anything except our hearts thudding against each other. Love snuffing out the pain.

I can’t even begin to imagine his pain.

It’s been a month since we’ve kissed. Sometimes I worry that he’s changed his mind about being my terrible boyfriend. But other times, like now…

_Now_, when we’re sitting on Penelope’s bed, watching a film, and he’s pulled me close to him. _Now_, I think he might want this.

Simon can’t handle watching anything with conflict or sadness, so we’re watching a stupid comedy. I think we might switch to cartoons soon, at the rate we’ve worked through the Bunces’ film collection.

Simon’s sitting with his back against the middle of the headboard. He’s hassled me into a slouch next to him so he can loop an arm over my shoulder and I’ve melted into his side. (I rolled my eyes to try to keep up _some_ level of dignity.) Penelope is sat on the other side of him, resting her head on his other shoulder.

There’s a joke in the movie, but none of us laugh. I only know Simon is paying attention by the huff of air he lets out. I run my knuckles along the outside of his thigh.

I feel Bunce’s eyes on me. She knows what Simon is to me, now. It’s hard to hide it. I look at her across Simon. He doesn’t notice; he’s lost in the movie, or lost in his thoughts.

She shifts and rises from the bed. “I’m making popcorn. Back in a moment, boys.”

“Shall we pause for you, Pen?” Simon asks absently, still staring at the screen.

She snorts. “Don’t bother.” And then she’s gone.

I shift a little, sitting up higher, and Simon absent-mindedly tightens his arm around me. “Baz?”

“Hmm?” I settle my neck back into the crook of his arm.

He tips his head towards me, just brushing my temple with his curls. “I still want this. Y’know, if you couldn’t tell.”

I turn my head towards him, and start to ask what _this_ is, but his face is right there, turned towards me and much closer than I thought. My dry lips just barely brush against his, and I feel an electric jolt down to my toes.

“S-sorry–” I start to stammer out an apology, but then his hand is on my face, guiding me back to him for a proper kiss.

It’s slow, and delicate, and oh so very deliberate. It’s not the same frenzied snogging as _before_, but it still feels just as important. Just as full of… wanting? Love? (I try not to think about it.)

He’s doing that nice thing with his chin again, and I almost start weeping. He still wants _this_. He still wants _me_. Relief floods through me as I let him slip his tongue into my mouth.

“_Ahem_.” Bunce.

I startle and pull away, but Simon holds me to him with his hand firm on my face. It’s just for a moment, just long enough to end the kiss properly, and then he’s letting me pull back again.

Penelope is standing in the doorway with her bowl of popcorn, laughing quietly at us. “Is the film really _that bad_?”

I don’t know what Simon has told Bunce about us. I watch his face carefully. But he just rolls his eyes at her and avoids the question. He reaches towards her with the arm that’s not around me, and makes a grabby motion. “Bring me popcorn!”

She rolls her eyes right back at him and climbs back onto the bed. She nudges him with her shoulder and gives him a meaningful look. At least, I assume there’s meaning. Simon nods, and I think I’m witnessing nonverbal friend communication.

Simon tightens his arm around me again, and we turn our attention back to the film.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 33\. An unexpected kiss that shocks the one receiving it.

It’s near midnight and we’re sat in Baz’s family’s sitting room, his arm looped lazily around me.

The littluns are long asleep, but Mordelia is stubbornly rubbing her eyes and glaring at us from her spot on the sofa across from us, between her parents. (We did a pretend countdown to midnight for the twins’ benefit hours ago, right before Daphne ushered them off to bed. The baby was indifferent, and Mordelia scowled and insisted she was old enough for “the real New Year countdown.”)

It’s strange, sitting here, pressed against Baz in front of his parents.

_“Do they know about us?” I ask when Baz invites me to come to Oxford with him for the holiday._

_He shrugs. “I suppose they do? I haven’t really hidden it from them.”_

_I frown. “But you haven’t actually told them.”_

We arrived this afternoon, and I’ve been on edge since. The guest room across the hall from Baz’s was made up for me, but we also found a stack of pillows and blankets on the sofa in Baz’s room.

_“Oh, I remembered how much Simon disliked the wraiths, so I thought I’d put those there just in case.” Daphne is giving me an amused look._

_“But there aren’t any wraiths in this house…” Baz flushes and pushes his hair off his brow nervously._

_Daphne smirks and lets her face settle back into pleasant indifference. “Oh, my mistake.”_

And now I’m uncertain where I’m expected to sleep tonight. But Mr. Grimm is watching us carefully, studying Baz’s arm over my shoulders. I wish I could read his expression.

“Why are people meant to kiss at midnight?” Mordelia interrupts my thoughts.

“Because American films say so.” Baz drawls lazily next to me. Mordelia glares and sticks out her tongue, and inwardly, I’m inclined to agree.

I’ve never kissed anyone on New Year’s Eve. Despite spending the holiday with Agatha every year since we were eleven. (Well, every year except for last year.) Even when we were dating, it was always too awkward to kiss in front of the Wellbeloves.

I suppose I’d thought that maybe, just _maybe_, this year could be different. That maybe Baz would take my hand and find an excuse to slip into the hallway with me just before the countdown. That he’d find a way to kiss me in private. _That he’d want to._

But we’re inching closer and closer to midnight, and he’s showing no intention of getting up off this couch. Where his parents are watching us.

So I’ve resigned myself to a kissless midnight. Not that Baz’s cynicism about the whole thing makes it any easier.

Daphne leans into Mordelia. “It’s meant to be good luck, pet.”

I wonder briefly whether Baz’s parents will kiss. The thought makes me nervous.

This whole thing makes me nervous.

I pick a spot on the mantelpiece to stare at. I’ll pretend not to notice who kisses who, or how.

Mr. Grimm looks at his watch. “Almost time, love.”

He shows his watch to Mordelia, and she eagerly counts off the seconds. I fix my gaze harder on the mantel and watch out of the corner of my eye. I know Baz must feel me tense as a board next to him.

“_Three… Two… One!_” Mordelia cheers. My eyes flick over to see Mr. And Mrs. Grimm each press a kiss to their daughter’s cheeks. She giggles and squirms away, and they lean quickly together for a chaste kiss. A parents’ kiss. I’ve never seen anyone’s parent’s kiss.

I stare hard against the mantelpiece again, not wanting to intrude. But then Baz presses his palm against my jaw and tips my face to look at him.

My mouth is dry, but I lick my lips and start to whisper _Happy New Year_ to him. But before I get a chance, he presses his lips to mine.

My heart is pounding. _Baz is kissing me in front of his family._ And it’s not a quick, closed mouth peck. Something that could be played off as a joke, or a friend kiss, or anything other than what it is.

I’m shaking. Baz’s lips slide over mine, and I let them, and I’m shaking. (He doesn’t use his tongue. I’m relieved.)

After probably only a few seconds, he pulls back and I noticed that he’s shaking too. He schools his face in indifference and settles back into the sofa.

I risk a glance at his family. Mr. and Mrs. Grimm are smirking knowingly and looking away, but Mordelia stares at us wide-eyed. I feel my face flush bright red.

“I _knew_ it!” Mordelia crows in triumph.

Daphne hushes her. “Leave your brother alone.” I look at Baz. A slightly darker shade of pale is creeping across his face and I know he is deeply embarrassed. (Maybe even more embarrassed than I am.)

“But he– they– they’re–”

Mr. Grimm places a hand on her back. “Yes, love, we know.” He’s looking right at Baz when he says it, and I can feel the tension ratcheting up in Baz’s body where it’s touching mine. “And it’s fine.”

Baz lets out a shaky breath and slumps into the couch. Relief. _Overwhelming_ relief. I rest a hand on his knee. I’m relieved too.

“We already knew, and it’s fine.”

**Author's Note:**

> Want more? Send me more prompts!
> 
> [ Kissing Prompts ](https://charmingladies.tumblr.com/post/186806870877/50-types-of-kisses-writing-prompts)


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